


Vision

by llcflms



Series: Ayahina Week 2017 [7]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/M, inexplicit smut i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llcflms/pseuds/llcflms
Summary: Ayato and Hinami watch each other enough to see their strengths and weaknesses, but not enough for their to satisfy themselves.
Relationships: Fueguchi Hinami/Kirishima Ayato
Series: Ayahina Week 2017 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821004
Kudos: 17





	Vision

**Author's Note:**

> Ayahina Week Day 7 (April 1st ): Free Day

She’s sobbing again, hidden in the corner of her room and blanketed by the shadows of the furniture around her. Ayato knows that she’s trying her best to be as silent as possible so that no one will hear her. It’s far too dangerous if anyone in Aogiri sees one crying— or showing anything that exhibits any kind of weakness even. He can tell from her stifled sobs and forced hiccups that she really is trying to hold everything in. He knows she’s trying her best not to appear weak. It’s hard, but she’s trying.

He doesn’t say anything but he lingers at the door to her room, watching her curled figure silently. As he listens to her sobs that showed no signs of stopping, he feels a strange wave of nostalgia wash over him. There is something about the way she cries silently to herself that stabs away at his heart and gnaws at the back of his mind. And as much as he tries to will it away, he can’t help the nostalgic images that start surfacing in his mind.

He sees a child— a boy— curled up just like she is, head buried in his arms just like hers is, body trembling as soft sobs escape his mouth, just like her. He’s sitting in an alley but it’s still dark and filthy like her room in the abandoned warehouse Aogiri is using as the current base. He knows why the boy is crying and he knows why he’s trying to hold everything in. It’s the same reason she is doing it. They both live in worlds where weaknesses should never be exhibited.

There is one small difference though— one Ayato only knows because he holds the foresight to the boy’s future. She doesn’t end up anything like him. Unlike the boy who hates and scorns the world that wronged him, who longs to destroy the humans who had almost destroyed him and who craved and longed for the embrace of spilt blood and torn flesh, she wishes no harm on anyone, no destruction to anything and longs to return to a happier and warmer time. She doesn’t lose herself in deluded grandeur of revenge and power. She holds on to beliefs of mercy and fairness. She treats everyone with kindness and respect. She sees the best even in the worst of people.

She remains true to herself even in the worst of times. She dwells in loneliness as she forces herself into a place she never belongs. The boy is different. He changes himself. He shreds every bit of his personality that once defined him, abandoning them behind him as he trudges on through more sins. He’s no longer himself. He never wants to be himself again. Hinami is only ever herself.

Kirishima Ayato watches Fueguchi Hinami and sees the strength lying in this weak girl.

* * *

“It’s up to you to do whatever you want with the kids after you eliminate their father. Kill them, leave them be or you can take them in to do odd jobs for you. It’s up to you.”

“Tatara… you want me to kill the father of those kids?”

“Yes, is there a problem?”

“No. It will be done. I’ll eliminate them all.”

Hinami watches in silence. She hates the command and she hates the decision even more. But she knows that much more than her, he probably detests them. His words hold the determination and apathy he tries to exhibit, yet his tone quivers and his voice stutters. The older man pays no attention to details like this— he probably noticed but he doesn’t comment on it as long as the work gets done.

She stays by the side of their superior as he heads on to the family of ghouls a short distance away. She can’t see them through her visor and she can’t hear them as they are slaughtered immediately without a sound. But the fetid reek of blood and guts wafts over to her nostrils and she knows that the job is done. This is further confirmed when their superior gives a satisfied grunt and turns to walk away from the scene. She lingers on the roof, waiting for him to return though he takes much longer than she anticipated.

“Come on, let’s go.” It was all he says when he arrives at her side. But his dry voice speaks enough about his feelings.

She nods and follows behind him as he walks away in silence. It takes merely a few steps for her to notice a difference. He’s usually silent, but this time, she’s able to hear his deep breathing, the almost-silent gulps as he forces whatever down his throat and the drag of his soles along the rough concrete ground. She senses it— the usually absent guilt over killing.

Hinami doesn’t blame him. Of course, he’ll be dying of guilt after taking out a whole family, including the innocent kids. But she knows why he did it. She knows he’s trying to spare them from the pain of losing a parent. She doesn’t know if he made the right choice but she doesn’t blame him. She knows better than anyone how he feels about this.

Because Hinami has been watching him. She notices things everyone seems to overlook. She sees the way his body stiffens slightly when someone mentions the word ‘Father’. She sees the way his dark eyes cloud with sorrows from his own past and memories as she speaks of her late parents. She sees the way he falters in his step whenever they’re walking on the street and a kid from somewhere screams for their parent. Hinami will turn to look and blatantly watch as the child runs up to their parent and is picked up and cradled. He will turn his body away from the sight, muttering curses over how noisy they were under his breath as he subtlety observes them from the corner of his eyes.

He’s weaker than he looks, weaker than he wants them to think he is. He’s successfully fooled almost everyone into admiring his feigned bravado, illusion of strength and the façade of a heartless killer. He’s fooled everyone from his past and present— everyone except her. Because Hinami is an observer, she reads things others don’t. She sees him for who he is and just how different is he from her?

Fueguchi Hinami watches Kirishima Ayato and sees the weakness lying in this strong boy.

* * *

Hinami falls for his weakness and Ayato falls for her strength. Yet, they share a bond forged out of unspoken words and unexpressed emotions. Their love is strong, burning or desperate but neither knows how to say it. Hinami sees no reason why he’ll fall for a soft, fragile peace-lover like her. Ayato sees no reason why she’ll fall for a cruel, violent murderer like him. They crave an emotional connection to lie back on when they need. They desire a connection based on honesty and trust.

 _What aren’t you telling me?_ both wonders, not taking the time to ponder, _What aren’t I telling you?_

They cling onto each other because they see things about the other that they themselves don’t. They keep their own distance while chasing the back of the other. In their strange attempts at tearing down the other’s walls while continuing to build their own up, the status quo is maintained.

They long for each other yet they get no closer to mutual understanding. All that they share is physical, surficial and unshared.

Ayato sighs when she straddles and leans over him, littering his body with kisses. Brief and gentle, it feels like petals falling and brushing against his hot skin. Her bare body is pressed against his naked one. He’s trapped between her quivering thighs and pinned down by her hands, clasped with his larger calloused ones and pressing him down onto the bed. She trails her mouth down the length of his torso, eyes fixed on his through her lashes and bangs. Even with an expression filled with raw, lewd desire, he finds nothing sick or disgusting from Hinami’s movements. Even at the peak of her venereal allure, Hinami radiates purity.

She keeps her eyes on his as she moves against him. Never had she imagined that she’d ever be bold enough to take the lead in anything. Her younger self’s fantasies laid in the images of fantastical charming princes and traditional loving husbands, leading her as the meek and submissive woman. Hinami dreamed of conventional futures, never anticipating what she’s faced with. Ayato lets her do whatever she wants whenever they’re physically intimate. She initiates the kisses, she deepens them, she starts tugging on the clothes and she pushes him down and climbs over him. He’s more or less silent throughout the entire thing, even at their high. His face remains blank and stoic from beginning to end. She tops most of the time, sitting on him yet not fazing him with her weight at all. No matter what he’s put through, he has a good hold of himself. Even in the face of overwhelming emotions, Ayato’s composure is cool and nonchalant.

“I wanna be like you,” she admits. She’s running her hands along his toned abdomen, till she pauses on his distinct hipbones, lightly stroking the jutting ridge on either side of his angular waist. “You’re strong and tough. And really cool.”

What she doesn’t say is, “I know your weakness and I love you for it.”

He shakes his head and pulls her to him, holding her chin so that cinnamon brown eyes and midnight blue eyes were fixed on each other. It feels, with their intense gazes, that they are boring into each other’s deepest thoughts and desires. But the fact remains that they know nothing about what the other wants.

“I wanna be like you,” he admits as well. He’s lightly stroking her cheeks and pushing her hair away from her face. “You’re pure and kind. Everyone loves you.”

What he doesn’t say is, “I see your strength and I love you for it.”

They reach for each other but no matter how they push their warm bodies against each other, no matter where their desperate hands run over and no matter how many times their lips and tongues meshed, their impulses remain unfulfilled. They’re spent, yet unsatisfied. They smile at each other, yet their heart curses the void both seem to feel. Their desires feel within reach, yet they’re both chained down. Pulling and tugging are hopeless. Clambering and scrambling forward are hopeless. They can’t move forward when they’re tied back. They can’t reach out when their hands are bound.

They’re a lot more alike than they realize. Their visions are strong and bright, but their lacking comprehension drags them back down into the abyss they’re always trying to climb out of.

**Author's Note:**

> This was technically my first smut fic for them, though it's not explicit.


End file.
